Toy Soldiers
by Exilo
Summary: Chapter 9: the great escape from the clutches of the Defias. Can Rykers tolerate the company of the Horde? Sorry its a day late, i was having trouble posting yesterday. Please read and review, and i hope you like it.
1. Chapter 1

_Wow. This was quite a project. I finished "Band of Blood Brothers" about a year ago, and promised a story from the Alliance's perspective. Writing this, I realize something: I don't like the Alliance. No offense to any of my Alliance readers, but my heart belongs to the Horde. Anyway, writing this was an experience. The current story is completely different from what I had in mind a year ago. I think that's for the best. This arc is six chapters long. I am writing a second arc, but I don't know if that will be done by the time this arc is finished. Posts will come every Tuesday night. I hope you enjoy it, and feel free to leave a review. And I would advise reading "Band of Blood Brothers" (see profile) first, since this is a continuation, and has many returning characters._

_Chapter 1_

Wonki was scared, which was a common emotion for her to feel. After all, what rational creature would not feel fear when combating an enraged feral orc, charging forward, only the boiling anger that pumped through his veins driving him on. Or when faced with an army of zealous humans, who were convinced that any not with them were those to be destroyed. She was scarred when she summoned demons to fight alongside her, though she did not show fear, for to show fear was to show weakness, and demons didn't take kindly to weakness. She was even scared when she saw Taff: the grey bull who towered over her and who's strength with magic rivaled her own.

But here, there were no fel orcs, snarling and seething with endless rage. Here there were no zealots who would charge forward no matter how much she pleaded to stop. Here there were no demons to summon or dominate, and she would love to see Taff, or any other friendly face for that matter. In the room there was only her and Marcus Twoblade, her closest superior.

Wonki's chair wobbled every time she shifted her weight, and was too short for her to comfortably see over the table. Twoblade had assured her this was not an interrogation. He had lied.

"Good morning sub-commander, how is your arm?"

Wonki looked down at her left arm, which was kept safe in a sling. "It's healing."

"You understand what you're here for? Start from the beginning. Take your time and go slow."

Wonki took a long breathe before starting. "The operation was supposed to be a standard salt."

"What does salt mean?" he interrupted.

"You know what it means. You're just trying to throw me off balance. That's why you took the leveler off my chair leg and that's why you gave me too short of a chair."

"I'm sorry. Maybe I can get you a few books to sit on. Would that help you see me better?"

She sighed, brushing her green hair out of her eyes. "Sometimes it's not enough just to kill the enemies of the Alliance. Sometimes they, and all their followers need to disappear without a trace. Salt. Something of a search and destroy operation in the most extreme sense. Find the enemy, kill the enemy, kill any of the enemy's associates. Anyone who had contact with the enemy is eliminated. Wipe him from the face of Azeroth. Burn it down and salt the earth. Needless to say, it is only done in extreme situations. Would you like me to explain what 'extreme' means?"

"Continue, sub-commander."

"The target was Luga Slimescale. Secondary targets were any of his associates. They were a clan of murlocs who had taken to raiding ships along the coast of Darkshore. There was supposed to be only five of them, so it was deemed that Commander Bracha and I would be able to neutralize the threat."

"If it was only five, why go with the salt option?"

"I don't know for sure sir. I was simply given the orders. Murlocs are often underestimated. They're smarter than most people thing. Maybe Lugu was one of the smartest. Regardless, a salt was authorized, and we were sent in.

"Bracha and I arrived in Darkshore approximately two weeks ago. We attempted to gather information on the murloc clan, but no one knew anything. Several men had left the town to slay the fishmen. None had returned. We thought nothing of it at the time. These were merchants and fishermen after all, their weapons were wood cutting axes and single shot muskets. Commander Bracha and I had been through a lot: slain demons, slaughtered orcs, killed giant centaurs. We thought we could handle a few murlocs."

"Never underestimate the enemy, sub-commander. You should know that. They teach it in basic training."

Wonki had an unimaginable urge to jump over the table and hurt Twoblades. Slowly break her knuckles against his jaw. Gouge out his eyes. Bite him. What ever it took to cause him pain.

"Yes sir, you are right. Never underestimate your opponent. They also teach to trust what your superiors tell you, and never question your orders. The intelligence said there were five murlocs. Our orders were to purge the shores of them.

"The raids always happened at night, so at night we went out, hoping we could find their camp without engaging them. If we knew where they were, we could watch them, see their strength and work from there. Bracha and I traveled along the beach, searching for some signs. But we found nothing. I mean nothing. We walked the entire length of the shore, and we couldn't find a single sign that anything had been living on those beaches. No extinguished fires. No scraps of food. No discarded weapons, or pieces of weapons. Nothing.

"It was way too clean. Murlocs are like a cancer: they spread as far as they can. They wander around, looking for something to pillage or rape. They aren't careful creatures. They aren't clever. If they were anywhere in a fifty mile radius, there should have been something. This was way too clean to be just a couple of fish-men.

"We started thinking what might have been happening. Maybe it was the Horde that was raiding everyone, blaming the murlocs. Maybe it was the Bloodsails. But it wasn't murlocs alone. That much we knew, or at least we figured.

"So the next logical step was into the water. I know a spell that would give us unending breath, but Commander Bracha refused."

"Why?" Twoblades asked.

Wonki paused, thinking of her next words carefully. "Commander Bracha was a soldier of strict morals."

"She didn't want your demon magic afflicting her?"

The gnome bit her lip. "It is common knowledge that I practice the darker arts. Monthly, my physiological state is tested and gauged. Commander Bracha still did not desire my aid."

"So while you swam with unending breathe, your commander was left to drown?"

"You humans have a saying, a cliché really. You humans are so fond of your clichés after all. I think it goes: 'you can lead a horse to water, but you can't make it drink.' What would you have liked me to do, cast it upon her without her permission? The commander would have continued to swim to the surface just to spite me."

"Just continue, sub-commander."

"We decided that, perhaps, we could find the murloc tribe in the water, occupying the wreckage of one of the downed ships. I had a bad feeling about it."

"The lack of garbage?"

"I know how stupid it sounds. But it just didn't make sense: the fact that the murlocs would cover their tracks so efficiently. Why would they? What would they have to gain from it? They raided the ships, they weren't concerned with retaliation of the Alliance forces, so why where they hiding their camps. Even if they were living in the water, there should have been some evidence of where they emerged onto the beach. Footprints, anything. I just had a feeling that something was wrong.

"Commander Bracha wanted to continue with the purge. We stripped out of our armor and swam to the nearest wreckage, inspecting it for any signs of encampment. We found something."

She paused. Unsure. Scared. Nervous.

"The mine you mentioned in your initial report?" Twoblades asked.

A cold chill climbed at Wonki's spine. "I opened a door without thinking much. It must have been wired. As I said, these weren't your typical murlocs. So many things were wrong. I should have just left. I should have just smacked Bracha over the head and dragged her back to Darkshore. But I didn't, and I opened a door to enter the wreckage, and there was just this huge boom and this bright flash."

"How did you now what kind of an explosive it was?"

"I study explosives. I got a decent look at it as a swam into the room, right before it went off.

"Everything is a blur then. A bright, blinding white light. An ear shattering boom. My left eardrum had popped, as I put in my report.

"After a few hours, I regained consciousness, washed up on the shore. I don't know exactly how long I was out. I don't know if Commander Bracha is alive or dead, but I fear the worst."

"Do you have any idea how you have survived the explosion?"

Wonki nodded weakly. "I believe that Commander Bracha formed a shield with the Light that protected me from the brunt of the explosion. However, in doing so, she would not be able to defend herself. I must have been blown close to the shore, and my unending breath would have allowed me to float in the water for a few minutes until I washed up. I don't think Bracha," she paused. "I fear the worse.

"When I regained consciousness, I managed, barely, to reach Darkshore, where I was treated for a broken arm, blown ear drum, several lacerations, and three cracked ribs. Considering I was directly beside a depth charge, even with the Light shielding me, I consider myself extremely lucky."

"Why not have the arm healed, instead of the cast?"

"Nature is always better than magic," she offered. "It heals better naturally."

Twoblades leaned back in his chair. "You must understand our suspicion. What with the allegations of you working with members of the Horde."

"Those allegations have no backing," she snapped.

"But they are there, none the less. And, now your commander dies in the line of duty."

"Performing on mission that you sent me on, sir."

Twoblades sighed. "Thank you for your time, sub-commander. You are free to go."

"Thank you," Wonki said. She leapt off the chair, landing with care, as not to further injure her ribs or arm. She left the room, never turning back to the human.


	2. Chapter 2

**Sorry this is a day late, but I didn't want to post on Christmas. Happy Holidays, next chapter will be up on New Years Day.**

_Chapter 2_

The mechanostrider moved through the forest with the grace and stealth of an enraged kodo. Wonki did not mind. She was not on a mission. She was not stalking the enemy through the jungles like she had so many times before. Her superiors called it a vacation. She had been through a lot, after all. She needed some time off.

In reality it was a suspension, nothing more. Two weeks for them to investigate Bracha death. The dwarf woman was a high level operative. For her to have been killed by a group of murlocs would look bad for the Alliance as a whole. They would comb through the evidence, searching for someway to pin her death on Wonki (death by a warlock was much more respectable than death by a fishman's trap). When they failed to unearth any evidence of foul play, they would invent a story about how Bracha died a heroic death, fending off a dozen murlocs so that Wonki could escape.

She reached Booty Bay before sundown, which was good. The many troll tribes grew restless when the sunset. They were more likely to creep from their tents, looking for something to steal or kill or eat. She shivered.

Booty Bay was the same as it was the last time she had been there. The goblins, on their comical turtle mounts and armed with clubs nearly as large as they, patrolled the decks, breaking up the occasional fights between drunken orc and human.

After leaving her mechanical mount in the stable, Wonki went about the important business of finding the tavern.

The inn smelled of stale ale and blood, as well as the unique odors of the variety of creatures that resided there. Tauren, the huge bestial creatures, always had an earthy, grassy smell mixed with the scent of fur. Orcs smelled dry, like stretched leather and cigars. Humans always smelled of smoke and chewing tobacco. Night elves had an aroma of the forest and trees they loved so much.

Wonki climbed, a little awkwardly, onto a stool at the bar.

"What'll it be?" asked the human bartender.

"Lemonade," she said. "Hard."

The bartender raised an eyebrow, but quickly put the requested drink before her. "What'll it be for you?" he asked, looking to the troll who had taken the stool at Wonki's left.

"Ale mon," he said, before nudging Wonki slightly. "Hey dere little lady."

She looked to him, recognizing his voice, and smiled. "Hey there Al. By the light, what the hell happened to your eye?"

"My name is Aloos. A-loose. You call me Al one more time and I'll punt ye over da rainbow."

"Okay," she chuckled. "What's with the eye patch?"

"Ah, some night elf little shit gouged it out. Wanted ta get ta Cerb or something. I was pretty drugged up at da time. He's dead now. So what brings ye ta Booty Bay?"

"I have an extended leave of absence. Two weeks." There was a hint of sadness, or perhaps annoyance, in her voice. Most would not have noticed, but Aloos's ears were keener than most.

"Why?"

"Bracha is dead."

Aloos brought his ale to his lips and slurped it down. "Sorry bout dat."

"Don't be. She was a zealot bitch. All she ever did was preach about the Light and how corrupt it is to lay in bed with demons. I mean, I did that once with my succubus when I was really drunk, but she kept bringing it up. Most days I wanted to kill her myself."

"You wanna talk bout corruption? We allied wit da bloods. I was in Silvermoon an dere was…Well dere was some shit happening. Two faced little bastards, dey are. Dey're more fun than I thought dey'd be. Still little shits though. Little shits who've saved my life more than twice."

"Shit happens in war. That's why Bracha tolerated me. That's why you tolerate the blood elves. I'm strong with magic, stronger than Bracha was, so she kept me around cause I was useful. She hated demons, but she loved it when my voidwalker took a fatal blow for her. She loved it when our foes fell, hexes burning their skin off their bone. There was one less to deal with. The blood elves can do quite a bit more with magic than any of you guys can. When I was in Desolace, I was working with Taff, Eck and Shoke?"

"Shaak," Aloos corrected, ordering another set of drinks.

"What ever his name was, he was amazing. I was better, but he was amazing. Kind of makes me wish that they were still on our side. Makes me scared of what you can do now." She took a long chug from of her lemonade. Her vision was distorting a bit, but she didn't yet feel the true effect of intoxication.

"I ran into one of ye draenei a while ago. He put up a good fight. Had me at his mercy. But ye know how ye Alliance types are. He started to monologue, said how wes all demons. Or, maybe he was askin for pie. I don't know, I'm not too good at understanding dere language."

Wonki twisted around in her chair, but lost her balance and fell off. Instinctively, she lifted both hands in front of her face as the ground spiraled towards her. It took her a moment to realize that she had not hit the ground, but was floating. It took her even longer to realize that Aloos was holding her by the ankle.

"What da fuck is wrong wit you?" He chuckled, noticing the glazed over look in her blue eyes. "Poor little gnome wit ye lack of tolerance and low body weight. Sit here on da stool and stop fuckin around."

"I ever said I like you?"

"Stop it Wonki."

"Not like that," she laughed. "But I like you and Taff and Eck better than I like anyone on the Alliance. Rendal is gone. Bracha is dead. I'm all alone now. But you're the only one who really likes me. Sure, Taff is nice, and he's gentle, and he never hurt me. He carried me, when I got shot, and he didn't hurt me, even though I just about fit in his hand. But he doesn't like me. Because of these demons. He can smell their corruption. He loves me, but he doesn't like me. You're the only one who likes me. You're my only friend."

"Taff is gone mon. He ran away wit Lunn about a year ago. Cerb, Eck and Shaak still dere. Eck da new commander of da squad, Cerb his second in command. I'd kill Shaak but, y'know, den I'd have ta do all da paperwork."

Wonki put her head down and started to cry, low at first, then began to wail. "Bracha is dead," she screamed.

"Yes mon, ye keep sayin dat."

"No," she whimpered. "I should be dead. She died because she was saving me. I couldn't help her. All I can do is hex and corrupt. She could heal. She could save lives. I can't do that."

"Stop crying. People startin ta stare."

"And Twoblade," she growled. "He has the nerve to think I had something to do with it. I hated Bracha. She was a selfish, sadistic, psycho bitch. But I would never try to kill her. She was my partner. She hated me, but she did what she had to do for the mission. She hated you, but she saw the need to cooperate with you and Taff and Cerb and Eck. She hated me, but she healed me if I was hurt. And she saved me. She saved me when she should have been saving herself."

"Okay mon, you've had enough ta drink," he said, picking her up her tiny frame over his shoulder. "Lets go 'fore ye say anymore."

"I love you Aloos," she whined, wrapping small arms around his neck and squeezing, until her intoxication took its toll and she passed out.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3 and no reviews. Man, I have had bad luck as of late. Oh well, this was fun to write, and that's all that matters. Reviews are appreciated though.**

_Chapter 3_

It was morning, and a bright ray of sunshine shown through the window and onto Wonki's face. She winced slightly, opening her eyes with care, allowing the pupils to adjust to the dazzling glow.

She sighed, struggling to remember the prior night, but recollection hid just behind dull pain. Her hand moved to her side and brushed something warm and smooth and leathery. She looked down, noticing a blue skinned arm. Following the arm to the shoulder, and eventually the head, she realized that Aloos and she were sharing a bed.

"Aloos!" she screamed.

The troll woke with a fright, rolling out of bed and retrieving his dagger from the side table. He assumed a combat stance, weapons held at arm's length, but lowered his guard when finding a lack of hostiles.

"Aloos! What the hell were you doing?"

"Sleepin, till bout a second ago."

"You were sleeping in the same bed as I was?"

"Yeah mon," he said, confused as to why she was getting so mad. "You beneath da covers, me above. Same way me and my brothers use ta sleep when we didn't have enough beds."

"So, there was no contact?"

"You want some?"

Trolls were a lot like snakes, Wonki decided, as the back of his hand stroked her cheek. They both had a slimy look to them, yet their touch was dry and smooth, and Aloos's touch was pleasant.

"Stop that!" she growled, pushing his hand away.

"Good. I like petite chicks, da bloods are alright, but yous pushing it. Yous can't even reach my waist."

"Shut up Al," she muttered. Her brain was throbbing behind her eyes. "You got anything to drink on you?"

Aloos took a small flask out of his vest pocket and tossed it to Wonki, who opened it and took a long chug.

The ale was warm and slimy, and left a residual damp sourness on the gnome's tongue. "What is this?" she wretched.

"Special troll brew, mon. Taste like shit, but it'll get you drunk pretty quick."

Indeed, the pain had already left her head and her vision was beginning to swirl.

"Ye may not wanna operate any heavy machinery for a while. I can go wit ye back to ye town, so ye won't ride ye robochicken alone."

"Alright," she said, shaking her head to relieve her blurring vision.

The emerald raptor snorted when it spotted Wonki, and she took a few instinctual steps back. A long tongue flickered out and licked its cracked lips.

"Easy dere big fella," Aloos said, tapping the raptor's head. "You been playing nice wit all da other mounts?"

The raptor hissed and snapped its jaws, though Wonki guessed it had no other desire than to appear fierce for its master. Her demons often did something similar. Aloos tapped its head again and it settled down. He put a long leg over the mount's back and hoisted himself into position. Wonki climbed onto her mechanostrider.

It was a days worth of travel, so mostly to combat the boredom she decided to talk. "Why are you helping me?"

"I feel sorry for ye," Aloos muttered.

"Seriously. Why are you helping me?"

"Why did you help me? Remember, Ashenvale?"

"I felt sorry for you," she laughed. "Poor little troll, seven big bad goblins against one."  
"Course ye didn't know that Taff an Eck were hiding in da bushes."

"And you didn't know that Bracha and Rendal were behind me. The night elves didn't like the goblins defiling their sacred trees. And the orcs didn't like the competition for their resources. Same goals. Just seemed like a good idea to work together."

"Good thing Taff was dere, or we'd of killed each other."

Aloos cupped his hands over his remaining eye and peered into the horizon. "Alright mon. Ironforge bout another half a mile. I get any closer and dey likely to kill me."

"See you again," Wonki waved.

Aloos nodded, turning his raptor and moving off into the other direction.

Wonki moved the mechanostrider forward, riding through the gates of the human capital, nodding at the guards she passed. They did not nod back. In fact, they rarely responded to any interaction at all. They just stood there, like stone statues, in their polished armor, ever vigilant against the various dangers the Alliance faced. Standing ready to fight the murlocs, or the Scourge, or the Horde.

"Hey Tek," she said, entering Tek's Tinker shop, located in the city's trade district.

"Wonki," the male gnome asked. "Good thing you're here, I got a letter for you."  
Tek rummaged through the papers on his desk, shifting and moving the blue prints and documents, until he unearthed a small sheet. "What is it?" he asked, as Wonki read it over.

"Nothing. Twoblades wants to see me. Probably just to lecture me some more."

Though Twoblades' office was fairly close, Wonki rode her mechanostrider, not feeling up to tiring out her stubby legs.

"You wanted to see me, sir?" she squeaked.

Twoblades was seated at his desk, and stood up, leaning over it to look down at Wonki. "Duty calls commander."

"With all respect, sir, I was given two weeks of vacation. Its barely been two days."

"Our enemies don't take vacations commander, therefore neither do we."

She sighed, assuming her superiors had deemed her free of wrong doing sooner than she thought. "What do you need done?"

"We have received a report from Theramore."

"Who's the report from? Goodlight?"

"Yes, Goodlight sent it. You and Private Nani will be sent in, alone."

"I'm sorry sir, Private Nani?"

"Your new partner, to replace the late Commander Bracha." He gestured to the left side of the room, and the draenei woman that was seated on the couch. Wonki wondered how she had missed her when she first came in, but then, the draenei was just sitting quietly, not moving or talking, and Wonki's focus was on Twoblades. She stood up, towering over the petite gnome, bending so that they could shake hands.

"Greetings," she said. "I am First Class private Gredel Nani."

"I am sub-commander Becca Blackboom. You can call me Wonki though. Everyone does."

The draenei people had been a formal part of the Alliance for nearly a year, yet Wonki had never seen one so close.

The first thing she had to comprehend was the draenei's size. She towered above Wonki, the gnome barely reached her knee, and her hoof was about as wide as the gnome's whole body. But squatness was something that all gnomes grew accustomed to, and Wonki had spent much time with larger races. Wonki had long decided that she wasn't too short, everyone else was just too damn big.

The draenei had a heavy build, heavier than a human or elf woman, with thick muscular thighs and a sizable chest, which made her undeniably woman. She had a pretty face, sharp features and soft, pale white eyes that seemed to glow brilliantly. A pair of short, curved horns adorned her forehead, rising out then curving backwards over her straight, coal colored black hair. Wonki had heard them called handlebars once or twice, and she giggled. The draenei's skin was smooth, and a sort of dark smoky black. She actually had a superficial resemblance to a tauren cow, perhaps a little more goat than bovine.

She was wearing heavy armor, polished bronze in color, that clinked and clanked with every rise and fall of her chest when she breathed. She carried a hammer on her belt, a huge weapon: the head of which was the size of Wonki's whole body. Dangling on the belt around her shapely hips was a crossbow, and she carried a large shield on her back.

"What is your training?" Wonki asked.

She talked with a deep voiced accent, nothing like Bracha's, yet Wonki thought of Bracha, because Bracha had a funny way of talking too. "I am fluent in the many aspects of warfare, ma'am."

"Are you aware of what I practice?"

"The dark arts, ma'am."

"Does that bother you?  
"No."

"Forgive me if I don't believe you."

"I can use the hammer on my belt to slay demons, or I can use it to brain orphans. Either way, the hammer is not good or evil. Such designations are left to the hand that wields it. If you are strong enough to control the demons you play with, then I applaud you for harnessing them for good. I can honestly say that I, nor my people, have not demonstrated the same strength."

Taken back perhaps, Wonki allowed herself to smile. "I appreciate your honesty."


	4. Chapter 4

**As much as I loved Taff, he was my favorite character, I couldn't think of anyway to incorporate him into this current arc. I'm writing a second arc, and that will feature Eck from the prior work if anyone is interested. Other than that, I am working on a one shot that will focus on Taff, but i don't know when that will be done and posted. Thank you for the review, and i hope you like this.**

_Chapter 4_

Tomorrow, Wonki and her new partner would catch a boat to Theramore, but tonight, she would sleep in Stormwind.

The room was meant for a human, which meant the furniture was vastly oversized. Wonki didn't mind much, she wasn't interested in the table or chairs, only the bed, which was so large, it was more of a trampoline than a mattress. Indeed, Wonki indulged a playful urge by bouncing on the bed before settling down to sleep. She undressed, taking her robe and boots off and dropping them onto the ground. Then she took the wand and dagger out of their sheath and placed them on the side table. Last, she took a few small explosives out of her satchel and placed them under her pillow. They were for emergency only, should she ever find herself at a time where magic wouldn't help her.

The three humans dressed inconspicuously. Long overcoats were kept closed to conceal the dagger that hung from their belts. The apparent leader was taller than the other two, with dark, chocolate skin and a long, jagged scar stretching from the middle of his forehead, down his left eye, and finally climaxing at the bottom of his cheek. His identification papers said he was Ted Steelsmith, but it was just one of many aliases he used when traveling. His two partners, he didn't know their names, but he had picked them up at the local tavern. They were a pair of local thugs, not professionals like he, but they would serve their purpose nicely.

They moved in unison, not one ever straying too far from the company. The trio slipped into the inn, up a flight of stairs, stopping outside the specified room.

"You ready?" Ted asked. The other two nodded.

The lock pick clicked and clacked as it played with the doorknob's tumblers, at last unlocked the door, allowing Steelsmith to slip inside. He took point, the others followed behind.

He found the target: Becca "Wonki" Blackboom in the bedroom, nestled beneath a pile of covers. Ted cupped his hand over the gnome's petite mouth, engulfing the lower half of her skull. He pushed a dagger at her throat, and she stopped her struggles.

"Don't scream," he whispered. "Don't whisper any of your incantation. Don't summon any of your demons."

"Place is clear, Ted," said one of the humans.

"Ted?" Wonki asked. "You should really use codenames when you're on a mission."

Ted lifted his dagger above his head and dropped it down, intent on driving it through Wonki's chest. Wonki was faster however, and rolled backward to her feet. She lifted both hands, gathered flame to her hands before releasing them forward into Ted's chest. The force knocked him back.

The second human charged forward. Wonki focused, breathing a hex into the air. It took effect, and the human clutched his chest in pain, but continued forward. Wonki ducked as he swiped at her. She reached to the nightstand, and found her dagger, and jammed it into the human's throat.

The third human came into the bedroom, just as Wonki summoned her void walker; Thulzazt. The hulking demon roared suddenly as it smashed into the human, its thick heavy hands warpping around the human's head and squeezed until his skull caved.

Wonki's attention turned Ted, who writhed on the ground in pain, the meat on his chest melted and singed. She found his dagger, taking notice of the emblem at the base of the blade, before saying, "You're going to die. I don't know how to heal, but I do know it will be a long, slow death. I can make it quick though. Just tell me who sent you."

"Fuck you," he said, and as he swallowed, Wonki noticed a lump pass down his throat. In another moment, his mouth began to foam.

---

"Poison," Wonki said, standing before Twoblades the following day. "I cut open his stomach and found a few capsules of plaguebloom, they must have been beneath his tongue. It's a potent poison, when not mixed with neutralizing agents. The amount he swallowed could have put down a tauren after a minute or two.

"He killed himself?" Two blades confirmed.

"Its not that surprising. A lot of mercenaries would rather die than face failure."

"Did they say anything that may have hinted at their allegiance?"

"No sr. One had a tattoo on his left bicep that is common to the Alliance armies. Another had a tattoo of the Bloodsail Buccaneers. If I had to guess: I'd say they were mercenaries."

Twoblades nodded. "You will be put into a protection program until this can be sort out."

"Thank you sir, but if it's alright, I would like to perform my duties to the Alliance."

"Sub-commander, you were attacked in one of our capital cities."

"I was not harmed sir. I can still fight, and operate the mission you specified."

"If you insist, sub-commander."

---

For how large the draenei was compared to Wonki, the elekk she rode was even larger. Wonki had to strain her neck to see Gredel, riding happily on the great creature's back. Wonki mounted her mechanostrider, but still felt utterly pathetic compared to Gredel.

"You haven't any clue who sent those mercenaries?" the draenei asked.

"No, I have a list of people who could've sent them. That's the problem, I've pissed off so many people over the years. I could be anyone. Maybe Twoblades. Maybe you."

Gredel grunted, pale eyes focusing on the gnome. "Excuse me, ma'am?""No offense private. It just that, I don't know how much of that riveting speech was the truth. Your kind aren't exactly known for accepting those different than you, and the whole Alliance hates me because I play with demons. Your hidden discontent may manifest into opening a contract."

Gredel laughed, long and loud. "I can give you one good reason why this wasn't me. If I wanted to kill you, I'd do it myself, not rely on a few thugs."

Wonki chuckled. "Fair enough. If we're going to be partners, we should probably know a little more about each other. You can go first."

"I have been a soldier in the Alliance armed forces for close to a year now. Previously, I was partnered with my brother, but," she paused. "But he was murdered."

"I'm sorry," Wonki said.

"He wasn't even on a mission. He had taken a leave of absence and someone killed him." She shook her head to clear her thoughts. "Your turn."

""My father dabs in the dark arts from time to time, summoning rituals, that sort of thing. My mother was an inventor. She was a genius always making something new. She died a few years ago, in an accident; one of her experiments blew up in her face."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't worry, I'm over it."

"Do you believe in the Light, ma'am?"

"I believe it exists."

"But do you believe in it?"

"We are not good enough friends to discuss something like that."

Wonki and Gredel were lucky that day. The first shot missed, the bullet skimmed harmlessly just past the gnome's face.

"Sniper," she screamed, stumbling off her mount and pushing herself low to the ground. She concentrated: a ball of light swelled beside her, only to retract into nothing, her voidwalker replacing it. With an order from its mistress, the husky demon charged forward.

Gredel took the hammer from her belt and charged forward. The sniper, a dwarf, aimed his rifle and fired, but the bullet bounced against Gredel's thick armor. She swung her hammer into the dwarf's head, caving his skull under the force.

There were two more behind her: two green skinned trolls. One thrust a polearm forward, but Gredel lifted her shield in defense. Wonki breathed a curse. It wouldn't kill the troll quickly, but it would cause enough steady agony that Gredel could gain the upperhand in the duel.

Thulzazt the voidwalker crashed into the second troll, driving him to the ground. Heavy arms swung against the troll, smashing and breaking his body until it popped with a wet squish.

Gredel swung her hammer into the trolls chest. He reeled forward, and took hold of him, and drove her knee into his snout.

"Don't let him swallow," Wonki screamed. Gredel looked down just in time to see sickly foam bubble out from between the troll's lips.

"Damn it," the gnome screamed. Petite fingers searched in vain for a pulse. In fury, she kicked the dead troll's jaw. "Are you alright, private?"

"Yes," Gredel said. "You?"

"Yes." She tore open the troll's shirt and pointed to a tattoo on his left breast. "This one used to work under the banner of the Horde."

"Then it is the Horde that wans't you dead?"

Wonki searched the pockets of the deceased dwarf, unearthing his identification. "This one is a peacekeeper in Ironforge. These are hired thugs, nothing more." She sighed, leaving the bodies where they lay, and returned to her mechanostrider. "Come on. We have a boast to catch."


	5. Chapter 5

_Chapter 5_

The boat propelled by both the wind and motor would arrive at port in approximately three days. Goblin owned, Wonki shared the deck with the company of gnome, dwarf, troll, ogre, and tauren. Anyone of them could be waiting for the right moment to strike. Lines weren't clear as they usually were. She couldn't just avoid the Horde, anyone could be hiding a dagger behind a kind smile, anyone could be bought off. Peace keepers with debts to pay. Soldiers with vulnerable families.

"What are you doing?" Gredel asked. Wonki had been so consumed in thought that she hadn't noticed the clanging of the draenei's armor or the thud of her hooves.

"Just thinking."

"You were humming a tune. What was it?"

"A nursery rhyme my mother taught me, you know, when she was alive. 'Step by step, heart to heart, left right left, we all fall down, like toy soldiers."

"That's beautiful."

"There's more, but I don't know it. I'm going to go to my quarters for the rest of the trip. With all these assassins gunning for me, I'd rather not stay someplace so open."

She walked off the deck, disappearing through a doorway, leaving Gredel alone. Gredel enjoyed the sea air, until she heard the clip-clop of hooves behind her. She turned, expecting to find another draenei. Instead, she found a centaur.

He was tall, taller than Gredel, so she had to look up to see his scarred and grotesque face. He was frightening in appearance, his face distorted and monstrous. What the cause of such deformity, she didn't know, but it chilled her to the bone. He was armored in elaborate plate, polished and shiny, more ornamental than practical.

Instinct reminded her of the hammer on her belt. Her hand moved to it.

"Who are you?" she asked.

"Nessus Baneblood. I am an old comrade of Wonki's. Please, just give her this letter. It's urgent."

When Gredel took the offered letter, her skin touched the centaurs, and a painful wretch swept through her. She recoiled, holding her head. Dizziness swept over her and she feared she would tumble off her hooves. When she looked up again, the centaur was gone. Without another thought, she put the note in her pocket.

---

"What do you mean, there is no problem?" Wonki asked.

Marshall Goodlight sighed. "There are no problems. I didn't send a report. We've had a decent amount of peace: skirmishes with the Horde from time to time, but nothing serious. A prisoner was freed from North Point Tower, but we haven't requested for aid in taking action."

"By the light," Wonki muttered, dropping her head into her lap. "Why does this keep happening?" she demanded.

Wonki regained enough composure to focus, eyes closed, as a ball of light swelled at her side, replaced by Thulzazt the voidwalker. "We'd better go."

The most important thing to do was to leave Theramore. Boasting a population of over nine thousand people, there were as many potential assassins as civilians to get caught in the crossfire. Gredel's hooves clipped clopped against the cobble stone street as she raced out of the gates. Wonki struggled to keep pace with the long legged draenei. She panted loudly, her weak lungs not accustomed to such exertion. When Gredel stopped suddenly, Wonki's momentum carried her into her backside. She bounced back to the ground, groaning, until she looked between the draenei's legs and noticed the three humans that blocked their path.

These weren't soldiers. They weren't mercenaries. They were simple fishermen, one armed with a woodcutting axe, one with a scythe, and one with a sledgehammer.

"Where the hell are the cities guards?" Wonki whispered. Taking the dagger off her belt, she said, in as loud a voice a creature with such small lungs could muster, "Let us path."

"The bounty on your head could feed us for years. I am sorry gnome, but you must come with us. Draenei, you are worth nothing. You can leave."

Sensing the tension, Thulzazt let a low rumble escape his chest. His vast, shadowy form twitched, and he inched forward. A stern look from his mistress stopped his advancement instantly. Wonki didn't want to harm these humans. They weren't malicious, they were just really stupid. There had to be some way to avoid bloodshed, she just needed a moment to think.

Gredel swung her hammer down, the head of the maul cracking against the voidwalker's skull. The demon stumbled, until another blow hit it face. One more hit to its chest and it disappeared into a puff of smoke.

Wonki turned, just in time to see Gredel swing her off into the gnome's face. The sheer force of the blow knocked her into unconsciousness.

---

Wonki woke to a drowning metallic smell. It took her a moment to realize it was her own blood. Her face hurt. Her teeth felt lose. Her nose felt broken. Her left eye was swollen shut.

She groaned, pushing a hand behind her to help her to her feet. She was confused when she touched a warm, fleshy pillar, until she opened her eyes and realized she was cradled in Gredel's lap. Wonki didn't necessarily mind such a position. The bigger races usually thought that gnomes were cute, and took enjoyment in babying her kind. She thought back to the time when she'd been shot: Taff cradled her for nearly a day, breathing life into her whenever she began to slip away. And Gredel was gently holding her, like her mother did when she was still very young.

"You kicked me," Wonki groaned.

"Sorry," the draenei said. She gently eased the gnome to her feet. Gredel didn't stand up, but stayed sitting, so the drastic difference in height wasn't as overwhelming. "Those humans weren't soldiers. They would have hurt themselves before they hurt us."

"So you broke my nose?""By knocking you out, the humans let their guard down. I could get close, disarm them before they hurt themselves. I'm sorry ma'am, but there weren't a lot of options."

"No, you did the right thing. Just do me a favor."

"Of course, what?"

"Catch me," she said, before loosing her balance and falling forward. Gredel did as was asked, and stretched both arms out to keep the gnome from hitting the ground.

"Thank you," Wonki said, trying to get to her feet.

Gredel's hands glowed, and she extended a gentle touch to Wonki's face. Wonki cringed a little, but stayed as her soft skin touched her. The searing pain and dizziness faded.

"Thank you. I didn't know you could do that."

"All draenei have the ability to heal. It is a gift of the naaru."

"Must be nice to save lives. Where are we?"

"The goblin's ship. With you unconscious I didn't think it would be a good idea to leave you alone. You started kicking and thrashing in your sleep. I was worried. Did you really believe I was going to leave you to the humans?"

"The thought had crossed my mind, right before your hoof hit me."

"Ma'am, we are comrades."

Wonki thought to herself. "Yes we are."

---

Despite her small size, Wonki could be quite intimidating, especially when she was as angry as she was now.

"That little mission you sent me on. It was a trap," Wonki snarled.

"Then why are you here?" Twoblades asked. "You should be out seeking the one who sent the fraudulent request for aid."

"Mark my words," she said through clenched teeth. "Who ever is doing this, killed Bracha. And if I found out you had a hand, no matter slight it may have been, I'll kill you."

"Is that a threat, sub-commander?"

"Yes," she said, before turning and leaving the room.


	6. Chapter 6

_Chapter 6_

Wonki didn't feel like getting out of bed, despite the noon sun that shown through the window. She wasn't necessarily lazy, but everything that was happening, it was easier to just hide than face it. In fact, she could have stayed in bed forever, the blanket pulled over her head, but a stubborn knocking on her door made those hopes impossible. She thought of shouting, "Its open," but that would allow anyone to come in. She thought of not answering, but who ever was at the door was determined, and showed little sign of letting up.

Groaning, she pulled a dark green robe over her head, pulled on a pair of slippers, and slowly made the trek over the floor. There was a peephole, low down so that Wonki could use it. When she looked through, all she saw was a pair of shapely, dark grey legs, each ending in a cloven hoof. It sounded silly of course, but Wonki, and all gnomes, didn't see the world like the taller races did. After a while, she could recognize someone easier by their legs than their face.

"Gredel?" Wonki asked, opening the door. "What are you doing here?"

The draenei bit her lip and nervously shifted her weight from one leg to the other. "May I come in?"

She was dressed nice: leather pants that hugged her hips tightly, a loose fighting, long sleeved shirt, crème colored, only the top button left undone. There was a pendant around her neck, gold with a sapphire stone in the center, probably for aesthetics than anything else, as well as a few rings on her fingers. Wonki realized this was the first time she had seen Gredel out of her heavy armor. She looked pretty.

"Sure," the gnome squeaked. "What are you doing here?"

Wonki's apartment was small, consisting only of one main room, a small kitchen and a bathroom. The furniture was built by gnomes, for gnomes, so Gredel looked comical standing inside. Chairs seats were as wide as her hooves, tables didn't even clear her shins. She sat down on Wonki's bed, her ample rump nearly swallowing the entire mattress. The springs whined beneath her weight, and the whole thing threatened to implode at any moment.

"Where were you last night?" she asked.

"I was here, sleeping. Though I may not be able to do that again, seeing that my mattress is about to collapse beneath your ample posterior."

"Anyone that can confirm that?"

"Have you looked in the mirror?"

"No, can anyone confirm you were here all night?"

"I live alone. What's going on? Is Twoblades dead," she chuckled.

Gredel shifted nervously.

"You can't be serious."

"He was found dead in his house this morning. His wife and children were dead too. I'm supposed to bring you in."

Wonki sat down on the floor and rested her head in both hands. "You're not wearing any armor, or carrying a weapon."

"I don't want it to be like that. Just come with me."

"How did he die?"

"Does that matter?"

"How did he die?" she repeated.

Gredel sighed heavily, her shoulders and cleavage rising and falling down three times before she said anything. "By the look of it, I would say the weapon was a claymore: heavy, dull. There was a lot of blood, the assailant hacked the bodies up pretty bad. To be honest, we're not even sure its Twoblades at all. We'll attempt an autopsy, but who knows."

Wonki chuckled. "Gredel, look at me. I'm not even three feet tall. I can't lift a sword, let alone beat some to death with one. Someone is setting me up."

"You had your demons kill him, or you hired someone to do it. It doesn't matter. My orders are to bring you in?"

"If you bring me in, my weapons will be confiscated, and I will be put in a cell with a dozen others. They have drugs, that make it impossible to use magic. I'll be defenseless. Don't you see. Someone is fucking me. Just say you couldn't find me, please. Let me find who is doing this. Then I'll turn myself in. I swear."

"Nessus," Gredel said.

"What?"

"Nessus. There was a centaur named Nessus. He told me to give you this," she said, taking a slip of paper out of her bag."

Wonki snatched it and read it over. "Why are you just giving me this now?"

"I forgot. Who is Nessus?"

"He was a comrade. Bracha and I worked with him during a mission about a year ago. He wants to meet tonight. He might know who's behind this. Gredel, please. Just say you couldn't find me. I swear. I will turn myself in when this is all settled. I swear."

"Go," the draenei uttered, turning her head to the side and closing her eyes. When she looked back, Wonki was gone.

Wonki would have to move fast. Her only hope was that the city's guards wouldn't be looking for her yet. It was noon, the sun was high, so it would be impossible to sneak out of the city. She would only look more suspicious. Instead she went to the stables and retrieved her mechanostrider, nodding nonchalantly at the stable master. She nodded at the soldiers and the guards, and the farmers that walked the streets, restraining an urge to speed to safety. She had to act natural.

About a mile outside of Goldshire, rested a small cave, deep within the trees. A lacking human presence had allowed a tribe of Kobolds occupy it. Small, fearful creatures, they usually avoid conflict, even with a creature as small as a gnome. It was the perfect place for an anonymous meeting. Wonki powered her strider down and left it where it stood. Slipping her dagger into the sheathe on her belt, her wand up her left sleeve, and a small bomb up her right sleeve, she set off towards the cave.

For the first time, with only the trees and the distant sounds of pickaxes hitting stone, she realized how stupid this was. She was wanted for murder. Now they could add evading arrest to the list of charges. The best thing to do would be to return to Goldshire and turn herself in, beg for mercy. She had been accused of working with the Horde several times, there were plenty of higher-ups who would love to her put away for good. But she had also completed dangerous assignment after dangerous assignment for the glory of the Alliance. She would be given a fair trial.

Instead she continued forward, at last reaching the threshold of the cave. Inside the dark tunnel, she could see distant flickers of light. The kobolds, she decided, fearful of the dark yet living in darkness. She could relate.

She heard a twig break behind her, and turned to see a centaur approach, his upper torso lost in the shadows. It was when he stepped forward into the noon sun's light that Wonki gave a nervous giggle.

"You're not Nessus."

---

Wonki was conscious for exactly five full seconds before she realized she was hanging upside down, her feet shackled, her blood pooling in her head. After another moment, she realized she was completely nude. Her head felt light, her muscles stiff. The marks on her arms told her of the drugs she had been injected with.

"You're not Nessus," she said to the centaur that accompanied her in the room.

"Your powers of observation boggle the mind," the centaur snorted. "No, I am not that turncoat Nessus. Nessus is rotting on the floor of the Great Sea. I am Magnus."

"You're not Magnus either. Magnus is dead. I should know. I killed him."

"Yes you did kill him. You and your band of savages murdered my people's savior. Cut him down in his prime. But his dream is not lost, for I have taken his mantle. I am Magnus II."

"Well la-di-da. Now that you've told me your sinister plan, and you know that the carpet matches the drapes, would you mind killing me?" she asked.

"Magnus was a visionary. He would unite the warring tribes under a single banner. And you murdered him."

"I've heard this story before," she groaned. "Come on, kill me. Avenge your fallen leader. Unite your warring tribes. But someone else will come along, and he'll kill you. We'll always win. You know why? Cause we're the good guys."

Wonki hoped to anger the centaur enough that he would kill her. Instead, laughter rolled out of his stomach.

"You fancy yourself the good guy? Your Alliance is composed of racists, bigots, elitists, and hate mongers. It was founded on the ideal of supremacy over those that are different, inferior. We are the rebels. We struggle for unity, when every other race seeks only to push us down."

"Its amazing you can stand up, what with that huge chip on your shoulder. The fact that all you centaurs turned on each other with Magnus dead should display how weak you really are. The Alliance is held together through mutual respect and common goals. Your tribes were held together by fear. All our leaders could die tomorrow, but the Alliance would hold strong. You pathetic bastards were held together by Magnus. If we hadn't killed Magnus, something else would have come along, and you would find yourself right her: leaderless, misguided, and blaming everyone else for your own inadequacies."

Wonki laughed slightly. "That's why we didn't do a salt. It just wasn't worth it to hunt you little shits down. Cause we knew, if we just killed Magnus, you would all fall apart. By the Light, I was ordered to salt a bunch of murlocs. The Alliance considers them more of a threat than you."

Magnus cringed, and swallowed down his rage. "You desire a quick death," he observed. "But that is a luxury not afforded to you. This is an old military base, abandoned during the Second War. No one is coming to save you. No one's ever going to find you. Another AWOL soldier. Just a statistic to your precious Alliance. You should have just died along with your dwarf."

The centaur turned and left, a lantern held tightly in his hand. It was the cell's only source of illumination, and when the door closed behind him, Wonki was left in darkness.

Magnus was content to leave the gnome in the cell for all eternity, allow her to rot alone in the darkness. There was work to do after all. There were others to make pay, and tribes to unite. He locked the cell, and turned, but was shocked to see a draenei blocked his path. Before he could draw his sword, she swung her hammer in a wide arc, the head of the weapon colliding with his jaw. He stumbled, reeling. The draenei woman let out a battle cry as she leapt forward, the hammer held tightly in both hands. She brought it down on the crown of the centaur's skull, caving his cranium The body collapsed.

From the centaur's corpse, Gredel found a key. Taking the lantern, she opened the door and stepped into the cell.

"Gredel?" Wonki asked.

The draenei, seeing the chained and nude gnome, instinctively covered her eyes.

"Its alright," Wonki assured. "Would you please release me? All the blood is in my head."

Gredel unlocked the shackles and eased Wonki to the ground, but still averted her eyes.

"What are you doing here?" Wonki asked. "Not that I'm complaining, but…"

"I followed you, ma'am. I didn't want you running away, its my responsibility to take you in. Besides, were are partners. We should watch over one another."

Wonki shrugged her wiry shoulder. "Thank you," she squeaked. "Now let's go find my clothes, I'm fucking freezing."

**Well this is it for the current arc, I hope who ever ****has**** been reading is enjoying it. I wrote three more chapters, making up a second arc, after that I don't think I'll continue with this story. I'd like to do a few one-shots: I finished one that takes place three years before BBB, and focuses on ****Taff****Aloos**** and Eck. I wrote another one that takes place a year after BBB (same time frame as this), and follows ****Taff****. I haven't decided on titles for those two though, so they may not be up for a while, or they may be up tomorrow. I don't know. Anyway, the three chapter arc after this is going to have Eck, as well as two new characters, and ****Gredel**** and ****Wonki**** in a cameo role, so you can look forward to that next Tuesday. Hope you enjoyed the gripping conclusion.**


	7. Chapter 7

**Not totally sure about this arc. One thing about Band of Blood Brothers, was that i never gave any screen time to Eck. Not sure if that was good or bad, since i think the character developed in an interesting way. Anyway, when i first wrote this arc, it had Taff and Rendal, both from BBB. I then changed it to Taff and Rykers, a new character. After that, it became Eck and Rykers, which i'm happy about it. I hope you enjoy this arc, and as always, reviews are welcome.**

_Chapter 7_

"Wake up."

Eve Rykers didn't know whose voice that was, or where it was coming from. There was no one around her. She was all alone, in an empty darkness. And she was cold. So cold in the empty void.

"Wake up."

"She heard the voice a second time, a moment before a burning sting settled on her cheek, and she realized she'd been hit. That woke her up, tore her out of the darkness, kicking and thrashing furiously.

She lashed out, and her fingernails dug into flesh before she gained enough composure to look around. Not that that did her much good. The only source of light came from a small window in the door at the far wall. That became her focus. Groping blindly in that darkness, she stumbled and tripped before finally reaching the bars. She screamed. She begged. She stretched her arms through the bars as far as they could go, in a desperate hope that someone would see her. But no one came to her aid.

"Please stop that," said the voice.

"Who are you?" she demanded.

"My name is Jonathon Eck. You?"

"Rykers," she said. The presence of another being was relieving. She wasn't alone in this darkness, thank the Light. "Eve Rykers."

"Stay calm, panicking won't do us any good. Our captors provide us with lanterns. I was saving them for an emergency, for all the good it does us."

A flicker of light. Her company held up a struck match and ignited a lantern, before lifting the illumination to his face, and she shivered. Now she could see the rotting corpse, his

ghostly features and sickly skin a cruel mockery of her noble kind. He approached, and extended a bony hand to nudge her. Years of training told her what to do next. She took hold of his wrist and pulled him close, her thighs closed around his throat. Her feet locked behind his head, and she began to squeeze her legs together, compressing his throat. The lantern rolled off, the light flickering and dancing off the shadowed walls.

The undead wretched and clawed at her thighs, but she held him tight. She wasn't sure if an undead could be killed in such a way. She didn't care. The undead was showing he was in pain, and that was good enough for her.

Then he bit her. He opened his jaws and closed them around her inner thigh. Jagged teeth tore clothe and flesh. The throbbing pain rattled into her leg, and she immediately pushed herself away. Upon inspection, she decided the wound was not too deep, and so she pressed her attack. He was stumbling, trying to escape. She dove upon him. Her fingers found his throat, and she placed her full weight behind her hands.

His forefinger and thumb pierced into her eyes, and it was only her backing away that kept the fleshy orbs from popping. She stumbled to her feet, only to be met with a fist into her gut, another across her jaw. She stumbled down, and the undead swung a kick into her ribs.

She heard a loud, groaning whine, but was confused as it wasn't her own (she wouldn't give the undead the pleasure of showing pain). She looked up to see the undead's attention had left her, and smiled at her advantage. A strong kick to his knee knocked him down. She smashed the sole of her foot into his snout. Then, mounting his back, she coiled her arm around his throat and began to squeeze the life from him.

There would be no escape this time. The undead could thrash and kick all he wanted, but he couldn't break her hold. She wrapped around him like a constrictor, squeezing him until his struggles grew faint and weak.

"Please."

The word was forced out of the undead's collapsing, rotting throat, so Rykers wasn't sure if she had heard right. The second time he said it, "please," it was undeniable. She eased her arm, just enough that he could take a shallow breath in.

"Please spare me?" the undead said.

She was about to wretch his head from his shoulders, but she caught herself, and instead asked, "Why should I spare you? Why does a monster like you deserve mercy?" She tightened her grip until he choked, just to display her power.

"Because if I die, there will be no one to care for her."

Rykers followed the undead's gaze, and looked a few feet to the left to where the lantern had rolled, and she noticed a vast form of muscle and fur. A tauren, Rykers thought.

The undead swung his head back into her nose. He was given enough to scramble out from her. He moved to the tauren cow's side, and took up a defensive combat stance.

Rykers looked to the undead, to the tauren, and back to the undead, slowly gathering herself and rising to her feet. He was a sickly looking thing, as most of his kind was. Pale skin clung stubbornly onto sun bleached bones. Greasy hair hung down at little past his ears. His jaws, those same jaws that had bitten her, were jagged and his teeth stained. He was nude, save a pair of tattered pants, torn before his knees so clawed toes were exposed. There was no flesh on his joints: the bare knees or elbows, and she wondered how the abomination was able to stay intact. Just a testimony to the dark magic that sustained it.

But the tauren. Rykers had worked with night elves on occasion, and they often spoke of the tauren's good nature, their honor, their calmness. What was one doing in the company of an undead wretch?

"Who are you?" Rykers demanded. The tauren was unconscious, so she wouldn't posse a problem. And she knew she could kill the weak bodied undead. She would kill the undead, but before that, she wanted answers.

"Sergeant Jonathon Eck of the New Horde," he said, looking over his shoulder. He picked up the lantern and inspected the tauren with gentle care. His attention was on the tauren cow, tending to a nasty wound on her left breast. She had a fur pattern like an animal: ebony black with sizeable white spots sprinkled throughout. She was a huge creature, drastically larger than Rykers, or the undead who cared tenderly for her. Yet she was on the ground, defenseless, weak. Rykers didn't allow her attention to wane. Her focus was on the undead.

"Lay one hand on her, and I will kill you, human. I don't know how, but I will."

The warning was unnerving, but Rykers clenched her fists together and demanded, "Where are we?"

"I don't know," the undead said.

"You're lying."

"No. I don't know. I was working in Thousand Needles with Samsera, this tauren. We were attacked," he said, turning to the paladin, anger burning in his eyes. "By you humans. When I woke up, I was in this cage. Sam had been shot in the struggle. That was four days ago.

"That's a lie," Rykers grunted. "That wasn't our humans. It couldn't have been. They wouldn't have attacked me."

"Perhaps your little Alliance has finally imploded."

Rykers clenched both hands together, before swinging them into the undead's skull in a motion similar to swinging a sledgehammer. Eck crumbled, rolling along the ground before coming to rest a few feet away. He was slow to rise, bones grinding against each other and filled the cell with a crushing sound.

"You will show me respect. I am Private Eve Rykers, soldier of the noble Alliance and a warrior of the Light. I could banish you to eternal damnation with a single word."

"Go right ahead," the undead said. He turned his attention back to the tauren, bony fingers brushing over the bloodied fur of her chest. "Your magic won't work human. Neither does mine. If only it did, I could help her."

Rykers tried to let the Holy Light fill her, like she had done a hundred times before. But she couldn't feel it within her. "What happened?" she screamed.

"Our captors are not stupid. They've injected us with drugs, or they have a way to steal our mana. It does not matter. Our magic doesn't work. Our weapons have been taken. There is nothing we can do. At dawn, what I assume its dawn, guards will come in and beat us. And they will leave just enough food to get us through the day, and a fresh candle. And then they will be gone."

"You pathetic little bastard. You just give up?"

"I cannot try anything. Then there would be no one to care for Sam."

"Keeping your meat fresh?"

When the cow began to thrash, Eck placed a gentle hand on her, soothing her into calmness. "We are given a minimal of food and water. If she should die, then I will do what I must to survive. But so long as she lives, I must help her."

"You're a monster," Rykers muttered.

"Yes," he agreed. "And so is Sam. Us monsters have to stick together."

---

Wonki didn't like running. Short stubby legs and small lungs meant sprinting was nearly impossible. The fact that she was chasing a human: long, lanky, athletically built, didn't really help matters. She had one advantage however. The streets of Sentinel Hill were littered with vendors and farmers. Small and agile, she could easily scurry through the civilian's legs. Her target wasn't so lucky, and clumsily stumbled through the crowds, tripping over carts and pushing people out of his way.

The target was Braze "the Red" Leary, a suspected member of the Defias Brotherhood. A rash of kidnappings had lead to a standard investigation, and the investigation would start with interrogation.

Leary turned into an alleyway, then a blind corner, expecting to lose the gnome in the darkness. Instead, he was met by a draenei woman, who took him around the throat and threw him against the wall. She was taller than he, and stronger, judging by how easily she held him off the ground, his legs feebly kicking beneath him.

"Let him go, Gretel," Wonki said.

The draenei let him go, and took a few steps back, standing behind the gnome.

"Now, Mr. Leary. This is how its going to work. I'm going to ask a question. You're going to give me an answer, or I'm going to let my tall, voluptuous friend here do whatever she wants to you. There have been a rash of kidnappings: civilians, soldiers, or any race and gender. Where are they."

"How would I know?" he asked.

Gredel coiled her leg back, before striking forward, the sole of her hoof crashing into his chest. He felt something crack, before bending over in pain.

"We know that the Defias Brotherhood is the ones who have taken them. Where are you keeping them?"

Leary looked away, teeth clenched, hands cradling his ribs. Wonki sighed. "You are going to jail. But if you tell us where we can find the captives, then I can tell my superiors, and you may have a chance at release. To be in the Defias, you have to be skilled. Those skills can be used for the Alliance. But if you keep your lips tight, then I hand you over to Stoutmantle, and I can guarantee execution. He's a bit ornery with your kind."

"Jangolode Mine," he whimpered.

"Jangolode Mine? That's where they are?"

"That's what I've heard."

Wonki brushed her green hair out of her eyes and put it behind her ears. "Makes sense: out of the way, out of sight. No one to bother them. Why are they taking people though?"

He shrugged. "Why not?"


	8. Chapter 8

_Chapter 8_

At dawn, or when Rykers assumed was dawn, four guards entered the cell. They were humans, like her, dressed in black jumpsuits and red bandanas that covered the lower half of their mouth. But they were humans, so she wasn't afraid.

Instead, as promised, they beat Rykers with their fists and feet. When she tried to resist, they beat her with their batons, so she stopped resisting. When they were done, they left her, and moved onto the undead. Her head bobbed lazily, and a solid blow to the left side of her skull and caused enough swelling that her vision was already distorting. Her ears still worked, so she heard the Frosaken.

"Don't touch her," he warned.

She twisted her head to look back, and saw the walking corpse had taken a defensive stance between the guards and the unconscious tauren.

One of the guards swung a hand at the undead, but he ducked and threw the guard off balance. Perhaps in his prime, the Forsaken would have lasted longer, but a second guard swung his baton to his spine, and the body crumpled to the ground. And they beat him, and he lifted his arms over his head to protect himself, so they beat him harder.

Good, she smiled. Monster, abomination. It deserved to die. It deserved to be hurt. She just wished that she could grind her fists against its bones herself.

As three of the guards continued to beat the undead down, the forth casually approached the still unconscious tauren. He lifted his baton over his head, intent to bring it down and crush the cow's skull. It was then that the undead surprised her.

With some remarkable reserve of strength, he pushed his way out of the assault and tackled the forth human, driving him to the ground. And he wailed his fists onto the human's skull, and bit at his skin, until the other three guards finally restrained him. Two held him down, as a third smashed his baton over the undead's body. One final blow across the Forsaken's skull broke the baton in half, and the Forsaken stopped his struggles and went limp in the human's grip.

They threw him down, his body collapsing and lying there, loose and dead. The fourth guard stomped his boot into the Forsaken's head before ordering the others out of the cell. He kicked Rykers in the ribs as he passed. The door to the cell closed and heavy locks tumbled into place.

Rykers lay there in the darkness for a long time, maybe hours, she didn't know. She didn't know how much time passed before a match was struck, and slight illumination glowed in the darkness. Rykers looked to the source, and watched as the Forsaken lighted his lantern and walked over to the tauren. His movements were slow, almost painful to watch. He always lead with his left foot, then braced himself and struggled to pull his right leg forward. He settled down before the tauren, folding his legs under him, and he sat, inspecting her wounded breast with care.

"How can you be conscious?" she muttered.

"I've been hurt far worse that this in my lifetime," he said in ragged, painful breathes. "Sam needs me."

The wound in her breast had stopped bleeding, which was good, but there was still the risk of infection, and he wasn't sure how much blood she had lost. Humans could lose a maximum of five pints before succumbing to death. The tauren woman was twice the size of a human, did that mean she could lose up to ten before she would pass from this world. There was nothing he could do, and that made him grind his teeth against each other. Just like when the plague swept through his lands, and everyone around him fell like cut stalks of wheat.

Eck never spoke, save inaudible whispers whenever the tauren regained consciousness for moments at a time. He spoke in a lumpy, orcish tongue, so even if Rykers was in range, she wouldn't have understood him. Inevitably, she had the belief that they were talking about her.

Not that she needed any more reasons to hate him. His existence, the putrid stench of his rotting flesh, made her blood boil and run cold. And the lantern. He kept it for himself, kept the light for himself. He was a creature of darkness. He didn't deserve it. But he had it. She should kill him. She could twist his head off his body. His flesh was weak and she was strong. It'd be easy.

"You may deceive them, but not me," Rykers finally said.

Eck had been hovering over the tauren cow, changing the bandage crafted out of what little clothing he could spare. He looked over his shoulder, snarled, and turned his attention back to his work.

"You're going to betray them one day, aren't you. They are your comrades, and they are going to betray them, like you always do."

"Just wrap yourself up in the blanket of stupidity to keep warm," Eck cackled.

"Don't think we don't know about your plagues," Rykers muttered. "You'll all be dead long before you can ever release it."

"Are you honestly that stupid?" Eck asked, finally turning his attention to the human, holding the lantern up."We have plenty of plagues to release, and any one of them could ravage through your kingdoms. Do you know why we haven't released them? It would be so much easier if we cleared a few of you out after all. Fewer attacks on Tarren Mill. Free up the resources in the Basin. Killing you all off would solve so much.

"Do you know why we haven't released the plague? Because that plague would spread, and it would kill the Horde. It would kill the orcs, and the tauren, and the trolls. It would kill those who have come to accept us as family. Because they may not always trust us, they may not even like us, but when we were helpless, they saved us. When you shunned us, they opened their arms. And for seven years they have fought alongside us, died alongside us. You should bow down and thank the orcs every chance you get, because if not for them we'd of eradicated you a long time ago."

For the tenth time in one day, the tauren cow woke up and for the first time she attempted to sit up. The undead was immediately at her side, aiding the muscles in her back, relieving some of the strain. And they talked in their language, while Rykers sat at the other side of the cell.

"Private Rykers?" the tauren asked, struggling to speak common.

The human sneered and said nothing.

"Have you any idea where we are?"

"No," she offered, after a long pause.

"No idea where we are? Or who has captured us?"

"I said no," she shouted.

The tauren sighed heavily, holding her wounded side. "We have no way of reaching out to the outside world. Our captors only enter once a day to beat us. Can you think of anyway that we may escape?"

Rykers shook her head.

"We must think of some way, or we will die."

"Tomorrow we may have our chance. When they come in to beat us, that may be our only chance. Should we work together. Should the human decide to lower herself and work with us."

"Jon," Sam said, with a sternness in her voice that silenced the Forsaken. "Why are they doing this though."

"You and I make sense," Eck muttered. "If they are Alliance, than they are beating us for kicks, and when they get tired of us, they'll kill us. But why the human?"

"These aren't Alliance that have us," Rykers said. "They are Defias Brotherhood they aren't Alliance. Alliance wouldn't do this to me. I am a soldier of the Alliance."

"So was I," Eck muttered.

"Jon," Sam said again.

"You are monsters," Rykers shouted. "You are demons. You are disgusting corruptions of my noble people. You ceased being human, ceased being Alliance the moment you changed."

"We didn't choose to change, human. But you chose to forsake us. The Light chose to forsake us."

"And you chose to attack us. You chose to raid our towns. Even when you broke from the Lich King, your aggression wasn't sated."

"Self defense," he mocked. "We kill you because you'll kill us. Despite how much easier it would be for you if we just lay down and die, it is not our preference."

"Jon," the tauren said, her booming voice filling the cramped confines of the cell. "Jon, its not worth it." Sam snorted, turning to Rykers. Despite how you may feel about us, for now we are in the same predicament. And so we must work together."

Eck grunted. "Until we escape."

"Until I escape," Rykers conceded.

Sam sighed. "That's the best I can hope for," she muttered. "These are Defias? Why would they keep us? They haven't attempted interrogation. If they want to execute us, they would do just that. They wouldn't bother keeping us alive, feeding us, however few scraps."

"They're torturing us," Eck explained. "No reason. No motivation. Just because they can. They are children, angry at the world. And when the tire of us, they'll kill us. We just have to kill them first."

---

"How come I always have to be the bad one?" Gredel asked.

"What do you mean?" The draenei and the gnome were proceeding over the plains to the Jangolode Mine.

"I mean, how come you always get to be nice. You offer the suspect a way out. I have to beat the shit out of him."

"Gredel, take a long look at me. Then take a long look at you. Who do you think the suspect will be more afraid of? You're six and a half feet tall, I'm not even a yard. I'm adorable, you look like a demon, with those horns and hooves and tail."

"It's not fair. You sleep with demons."

"That was one time, and I was drunk. Why did I even tell you about that?"

"It's just not fair. You practice demonology. You should be the one that everyone's afraid of. You should be the one that tortures."

"No one said this was fair. War isn't fair. Deal with it." Wonki cupped her hand over her eyes and peered off to the horizon. "The mine used to belong to Stormwind, but it's fallen into the hands of the Defias. Fortunately, that means we got plenty of intelligence on it. There's only one main entrance, which is bad. Only one way to get in, only one entrance they need to cover. There's no way we can sneak in. Got to go straight through the front door. May be a few other entrances around the sides, but we haven't got the time to seek them out."

"Why are we the only ones being sent in? Why haven't the Alliance rooted out the Defias?"

"Don't care to spare the man power. Victory over the Defias, a bunch of pissed off, rowdy rebels doesn't look as good as defeating the Horde in Arathi. Couple civilians get kidnapped, they send us in because they have to do something, but there are bigger things to deal with. We're good though, they know well get the job done."

Wonki cupped her hands over her eyes again. "We should wait till night fall. Hopefully, the guards will be a little lighter." Wonki walked a little farther, finally reaching the shade of a large oak tree where she sat down. "Get comfortable."

"Is this wise? They'll outnumber us."

"Quality over quantity. Besides, we go slow. Take them a few at a time. Don't get overwhelmed. Keep them from running away and calling in reinforcements. I've done this before, with Bracha and Rendal. Kill em quick and quiet, not too hard."


	9. Chapter 9

**This was a very disappointing story. ****A total lack of readership.**** But I don't blame you. I just didn't have a fire with this story. Personally, I blame the Alliance. ****Bunch of egotistical bastards.**** I just can't write from their point of view. The important thing**** is**** that I was able to introduce two new characters: ****Gredel**** and ****Rykers****, who will play ****roles****in any**** future ****Warcraft**** stories that I write. I was also able to give some characterization to Eck in this part. Looking to the future, I'll start posting "In the Beginning" next Tuesday. For more information on that, you can check my profile. I hope you enjoy this, and I hope you've enjoyed.**

_Chapter 9_

At dawn, or when Rykers assumed was dawn, three guards entered the cell. They didn't even look at her, they just approached the undead, batons in hand, grins plastered across their faces. The fourth guard entered last. A few bruises and bite marks covered his face, and his left arm was in a sling, but he still carried a baton in his right hand.

Two of the guards held Eck, and the fourth, the one that the undead had attacked the prior day, cracked his baton across his ribs, and his shoulder, and his jaw. The other two guards did their part, and held the Forsaken. When he crumbled, they lifted him back up and held him firmer.

The one guard who didn't take part in the beating stood a few steps away, enjoying the attack. He didn't notice as Rykers, who had prior been lying on the ground, motionless, slowly stood up and approached from behind. The paladin laced her arms around the guard's throat and took a firm hold of his head, before twisting it to achieve the desired snap.

The guards stopped beating Eck, and turned to Rykers, and in that time the undead broke free of his restraint and tackled one of his captors to the ground. Samsera the tauren clapped both hands together and crushed one of the human's skull between her open palms. She took hold of the last human and dragged him to the ground, before crushing him beneath her weight.

Even that slight exertion took its toll on the tauren, and she fell, crippled, to the ground, holding her chest. Eck clamped his jaws onto the human's throat and snapped his head back.Rykers cracked a baton across the undead's back. When the tauren rose to stop her, she swung the baton across the tauren's jaw.

"What are you doing?" Eck demanded. She swung the baton down again across his spine. A third time she attempted to strike him, but the baton broke when the tauren put her thick arm in its path.

"We had a deal," Samsera spat, taking hold of the undead and pulling him close.

"Yes, we had a deal to kill those four," Rykers noted, taking a second discarded baton from the ground. "And now they are dead."

When the undead had slipped out of consciousness, Rykers didn't know, but Samsera cradled the broken body, shielding him against any attack the paladin may have been planning. "You'll kill us?" she asked.

"No." Rykers walked backwards, and stepped through the threshold of the door and out into the hallway. "Monsters like the dark, after all," she said, before closing the heavy door and locking it shut.

There were no guards in the hallway, which was good. In her present state, Rykers was not sure how long she would last in a fight. She was tired, and weak from hunger and the beating she had suffered the prior day. Wounds were deep, burned and caused just enough pain to never let her forget they were there.

Footsteps around the corner. Guards, she thought, as she pressed herself against the wall and lifted the baton, ready to swing it and cave the skull of who ever would come. She held her breath. Her grip tightened. She lashed out from behind the corner.

Rykers wasn't sure what had happened, everything happened so fast. One minute she was turning the corner, and the next she was on the ground, the arm that held the baton twisted painfully behind her back, and a dense hoof was pressed against her back to keep her down.

"Gredel, let her go." The voice was a high pitched squeak, and belonged to the gnome that Rykers noticed in front of her. Her arm was released and strong hand took her around the chest and lifted her to her feet. "I'm sorry about that," the gnome continued. "I am Commander Wonki. This is Private Gredel." Rykers turned to the draenei who stood behind her.

"I am sorry for that," Gredel said. "You are one of the soldiers that the Defias had kidnapped?"

"Yes. I am Private Rykers. Defias? Are they all dead?"

"This is barely a base. It's a prison. They send anyone they can get and send them here. They probably try to break you for information, or more likely just for kicks. We've found a few others, mostly civilians.""There are Horde," Rykers said. "Two of them. In the cell down the hall. Second one. We have to finish them."

"Horde?" Wonki asked.

"Yes, a tauren and an undead. We can finish them off."

"Private Rykers, you are badly hurt, you are in no position to fight."

"We can kill them together," she pleaded. "The tauren is wounded, she can barely move. And the Forsaken is ready to crumble at any moment."

"Private Rykers, Gredel will get you someplace safe." She paused. "I will take care of the Horde."

Gredel looped one of Rykers' arms over her shoulders, and the draenei helped the human out of the base, allowing her to rest heavy.

"Get her with the others," Wonki ordered, before turning, and moving down the hall. She found the cell door, and upon realizing that she had no way of opening it, closed her eyes and summoned her voidwalker into the plane of existence. The shadowy demon undid the locks and turned the heavy knob, opening the door and rushing into the shadows, prepared to assault any hostiles in the interest of protecting his mistress. Upon only finding a tauren, wounded and dying from a bullet wound in her breast, and an undead, broken and cradled in the tauren woman's arms, did he settle into a position of calm.

"By the Light?" Wonki asked. "Sam, are you alright?"

"Bullet entered through the front of my shoulder. Mostly went through the meat. No serious damage. Jon said I was bleeding a lot though."

"What about Eck?"Samsera held the body a little tighter, squeezing the frail form against her until it almost popped. His head hung loosely on his shoulders, bobbing lazily. "His bodies just shut down. He's got nothing left."

"Will he be alright?"

Saturation wetted the corners of the tauren cow's eyes. "I don't know."

"You have to get out of here, now. I'll tell Gredel I executed you. But you have to get out of here.""I owe you one, Wonki," the tauren nodded, slowly struggling to her hooves. She almost fell twice before she gained enough of a footing to stand straight. She cradled Eck in her right arm, holding him close to her chest as if should her grip slacken he would crumble to dust.

"Sam, it might be better if you wait. Guards seemed light but we haven't gone any deeper into the base. You won't survive an encounter with any stragglers. If you stay, I can guarantee you'll get help."

The tauren chuckled her warm laugh. "There was a human in here with us. We decided to work together. That lasted just until she was free. Forgive me, but I don't have much faith in you Alliance. I'll take my chances attempting to escape."

"Please," Wonki started. "Please get out of here alive."

"I'll see what I can do," she smiled. With Eck in her arms, the tauren walked out, turning the corner and moving through the hallway, deeper into the base. Wonki gave Samsera thirty seconds, before she left the cell herself, and went off to lie to her partner.


End file.
